Rosemary Clement-Moore Quotes

For the first time ever, I'd managed a great parting line and a grand exit. And it still felt like crap.

I glanced at Carson, who had promised things would be alright. His gaze was on the floor, and a muscle in his jaw flexed rhythmically but unhelpfully. If he was trying to send me a message, I was out of luck, because I'd never learned Morse Code for Assholes.

Aunt Hyacinth's protections around the house would stop a spirit. They wouldn't do anything against an axe murderer except make him queasy, which didn't seem like it would be much of a deterrent. I mean, a strong stomach probably came with the job.

I wasn't worried about myself. I didn't consider the possibility that either of the men could catch me. I was all-star varsity soccer. I was Braveheart in Urban Outfitters. I was Supergirl.
I was seriously delusional.

Amy, honey." He rubbed my arm gently, as if telling me bad news. "You shouldn't listen to me. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

How do I know what *you've* got in your pants?' He choked, and so did I, for different reasons. 'Pockets!' I corrected.

For an age we stood there like that, me holding him by the collar of his jacket and kissing him for all I was worth, him standing there, hands up like I was frisking him with no idea what to do about it.
It. Was. Awesome.

[W]hen Ben was kissing me, the whole world retreated. I felt things I'd never felt before, in places I never knew were connected.
But I was pretty sure that whatever was buzzing against my thigh was not normal. For one thing, it was ringing.
Ben dragged his mouth away from mine and mumbled a curse that was a little shocking and kind of hot.
"Ignore it," he said.
That was easy for him to say when his cell phone was rounding third base. If anyone got a home run tonight, I didn't want it to be Verizon Wireless.

Being in on the secret might be a lot of fun when you're a kid, but not so much once you realize how often life hinges on everyone agreeing
at least outwardly
on the same reality.

From what I could tell, whenever an archangel or a burning bush turns up, it's generally not to say, 'Hey, go out and have a happy and uncomplicated life.' (p. 205, Highway to Hell).

Great Caesar's goat." Phin's voice floated down from the rim of the sinkhole. "The earth caves in, and you two are making out?

If you're such a genius, you wouldn't believe in magic."
"If you weren't such an old coot, you wouldn't need it.

My determination was stronger than my fear.

I'm very curious to meet a guy who makes you completely forsake the scientific method in favor of unfounded supposition and speculation."
"It's called intuition!

In two more weeks, you'll have to stop calling me that, *Jack*.'
'In two more weeks, I'll still be too old for you.'
I stared at him, stunned that he'd actually *said* it.

Taylor: what do you hear? Daisy: Nothing but rain

Good writing is good writing. In many ways, it's the audience and their expectations that define a genre. A reader of literary fiction expects the writing to illuminate the human condition, some aspect of our world and our role in it. A reader of genre fiction likes that, too, as long as it doesn't get in the way of the story.

She was the only creature in the world who would really care if something happened to me, even if it was only because I was the bringer of kibble.

Don't ever trust anyone who's writing a book. They make up lies for a living.

I was the designated grown up in a family that operated in different reality than the rest of the world.

You have a funny way of showing how much you don't like me."
"I don't like gophers, either, but I wouldn't leave one to suffer. I'd shoot it to put it out of its misery.

The bastard even limped fast.

Just FYI," I told Phin, "he was flirting with you."
She looked at me, then at Mark's departing form. "Oh. That explains a lot. I'm good at a lot of things, but flirting isn't one of them. Especially with someone I find extremely attractive."
"Here's a tip ... Don't overthink it. It's more of an instinct than an intellect thing."
"Right," she said. "Pheromones."
With a sage nod, she followed Mark.

Emery cut in impatiantly, "For crying out loud. Who do you think you are, Nancy Drew?"
Hey," I snapped, because no one sniped at my sister but me, and Mark echoed with a stern "Chill, dude."
Phin was unperturbed. "Those books were highly unrealistic. Do you have any idea how much brain damage a person would have if she were hit on the head and drugged with chloroform that often?

I was not supposed to end up freezing my ass off in a remake of Harry Potter meets The Italian Job by way of Fargo.

You're not hurt, are you?" "Only my delicate sensibilities.

There was something so . . . stalwart about Ben. I'd only known him two days and he'd managed to infuriate me most of that time. But there I was, protected by the curve of his arm, and grateful for it. And not just because it for nice, though it did.

It doesn't matter. We could never date anyway. Doesn't the FBI have rules against partners dating? Even if I am just an unpaid consultant.'
'I'd certainly never want to date Gerard, so I never asked.

How about this?" I said, because now it was the principle of the thing. "I'm sorry, jackass.

I could hear my dogs barking. Worse I could hear bleating. Joyful goat chuckles of freedom.
"The goats!" I clutched my head, an absurdly melodramatic reaction suited to this farce. "The goats were in the tree!"
"The ... Wait, what?

Long-haired Chihuahuas have no notion they are bite-sized.

I was generally pro-bat, except when I was trekking through the dark trying not to think about the dire fate of every horror movie character stupid enough to go into the dark with a flashlight and check the fuses.

Focus, Amy. Just because he looked great in the saddle did not mean he wasn't an axe murderer.

That was the thing about the Goodnight world. No matter what the label said, you could never assume anything only worked like magic.

I should take my dog for a walk now. i can only handle one bitch at a time

He rose to his feet in one fluid move, the better to look down at me. You don't know me, princess.
Some people have reasons for doing things, and don't just go wherever they're told or drift whichever
way they're pushed.